Hindi word of the day: बाल्लर (baller)

Okay, so "baller" isn't actually a Hindi word. But there really is no other word that can adequately capture the epicness of this weekend--and besides, Indian kids listen to so much American hip-hop that baller will probably be part of the lexicon any day now. In terms of the quality of weekends in my life, this weekend was up there with the weekend of December 6th, 2008 (yes I did just look this up on Wesleying), which included dancing on stage next to Girl Talk, sledding down Foss Hill at 1 a.m., and the first annual Secret Santa party (Holla acha, secret santa crew. I miss you all so much!).

The weekend started on Thursday, which reminded me of pre-Argus-EIC days at Wesleyan. A bunch of us went to a bar in Camp called "Toons" which blasted exclusively terrible 80s and 90s rock at a volume that made conversations essentially impossible. In the car on the way there, Zach and I rocked out (i.e. did sing-alongs) to some awesome Lion King tunes, which was a great start to the night--for us, but maybe not for Sayali, who was driving.

Culturally inappropriate?

Divyanka and Pankhuri hiding behind the bottles.

The next day after IPED, Pooja drove us in her dad's SUV to a delicious lunch place, stopping to pick up anyone from the program we saw on the way. It felt like being at BHS again and driving as fast as possible to T&C during lunch. After lunch we went to the film archives to watch Gandhi for class, and after that Pooja and I went back to her house where her personal waxer was waiting to wax our legs. I paid about $3.00 to have my legs and armpits waxed and my head massaged. Awesome.

Then we ordered pav bhaji delivery and a bunch of people came over to Pooja's. Funn timez.

This is not my photo, but I stole it from Pooja because I love it. Left to right: Stefan the philosopher, Naman the hookah king, Zach the somber, and Josh the model.

The next day Jen, Amy, and I got breakfast and then I headed home. In the afternoon, a bunch of my extended host family who I hadn't met yet came over for lunch. I finally got to meet my host sister Meena who has sent home lots of delicious food for me to eat with my Aai whenever Aai visits her. I love getting to know my host family--it seems like there are infinite numbers of them and they're always incredibly nice. My host cousins invited me to come visit them in Mumbai when I go there.

Ashmira (my host parents' granddaughter, Meena's daugher, who just turned 1) on Ishan's (who is 5, speaks almost perfect English, has lost his two front teeth, and loves doing magic tricks) shoulders. I may not be the biggest fan of kids, but even I think this is adorable.

After lunch, I walked to Fergusson to meet Zach for a visit to Aga Khan Palace. But when we arrived, there was an elephant walking down FC Road in the middle of the city. We gawked as it sauntered down the road, cars stopping to pass it coins (which it handed up to the man on its back using its trunk) and food (which it swung into its mouth). Preston, who we had met at the center, said that we could probably ride it if we wanted to, which of course prompted us to be all like, WHAT?! So finally we communicated to the guy we wanted to ride, and he had the elephant (who was named Rani, meaning Queen) kneel one leg down so that we could climb on using a rope tied to her back.

Rani gets some biscuits . . .

. . . and some spinach.

The most touristy tourists ever but SO WORTH IT.

After the elephant ride, we were both on a "we just rode a motherfucking elephant down the street" high as we headed off to Aga Khan Palace, also known as Gandhi National Memorial. The palace is where Gandhi was imprisoned from 1942-1944 during the Quit India movement. If you've seen the movie Gandhi, the scene where he is interviewed by an American photographer and teaches her to use the spinning wheel and the scene where his wife died were both filmed here (and occurred here in real life too, in case that wasn't clear). It is STUNNING. The museum is really cool,--we got to see the actual bathroom Gandhi used and the bed he slept on--the palace itself is beautiful, and the grounds around it are the most peaceful place I've been to in Pune.

One of the trees on the grounds of the palace. Yes, this is all one tree.

Some of Gandhi's ashes are kept here, next to those of his wife and his secretary (who he considered a son), who both died during their imprisonment at Aga Khan. Plants grow out of the top of the samadhis.

The palace was built in the late 1800s by Sir Sultan Muhammed Shah Aga Khan III in order to employ local villagers who were incredibly impoverished and facing a famine. The construction employed thousands, who were all provided full wages.

We headed from the memorial to this awesome new restaurant near Fergusson called the Chocolate Room, which is exactly what you'd expect--about six thousand different food items all made using chocolate. We got two milkshakes--Snickers and Brownie. Om nom nom.

Chocolate Taj Mahals

On Sunday, I went for a run through the hills (I'm going to take photos of my running route soon because it's beautiful) and when I came back, my Aai and I started talking about saris. Pooja is taking me to her friend's wedding later this month and my Aai had told me she would take me sari shopping in time for my sari to be ready for the ceremony. She offered to show me her collection, which was AMAZING. She owns about 30 to 40 saris (her estimate), each of which cost anywhere between about $50 and $500.  Her sari collection actually might be worth more than their flat. As my Baba put it, "She could open a store of just her saris." I got super excited and took a bunch of photos, and she asked if I wanted to go sari shopping that day. Obviously you know what the answer to that was.

My Aai and one of her many saris.

International Klein Blue, Rohan?

The store where we went sari shopping.

This place was incredible--walls lined with saris, floors covered where they'd been taken out to show customers, and women everywhere draped in gorgeous shades of fabric examining themselves in mirrors.

My host cousin Gargi, who came with us, thought it was hilarious how excited I was and how many photos I was taking.

The men who show us the saris take them out individually and spread them across the floor. When you like one enough to try it on, they fold it up in a special way, pull it around you, and strap it to you using this little elastic strap that they all carry in their pockets the way the Nordstrom bra ladies carry measuring tape.

The winner. Pretty much my dream sari.

SO PRETTY AAAGHHHH.

Gargi and Aai at the sari store.

After sari shopping, we ate bhel at Gargi's house (her mom is my Baba's sister) and I watched the Filmfare awards, which are essentially the Bollywood Oscars and involved lots of amazing dancing, which I was obviously freaking out about. And thus concluded the most amazing weekend ever.